


Should You Fail to Lie Still

by Estirose



Category: Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estirose/pseuds/Estirose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy wakes to find herself on a deserted island with a man and his nursemaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should You Fail to Lie Still

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/gifts).



> Many thanks to my beta and good friend tptigger, who managed to get me to finish this in time for Yuletide.

It was unusual, Wendy thought, to wake up on a tropical island, especially when one clearly remembered that one had gone to bed in one's own bed and not, for example, a ship. She would, if she'd been sure she was awake, presumed it was a dream. However, a careful pinch to her arm did not cause her to awaken to her own bed.

"Miss?" a voice behind her asked, and she turned. He was a gentleman, finely dressed, as if expecting to be at a dinner party. As Wendy stared at him, she noticed a resemblance to the pirate James Hook, though this gentleman sported no hook at the end of one hand, nor did he have the cadaverous appearance of the pirate that had been eaten by the crocodile. "Good morning, miss. My name is James Johnson. I presume you were shipwrecked, as was I."

Wendy was an intelligent girl, and the man reminded her too keenly of James Hook. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Johnson." She gave him a small bow, for it did not do to be rude. She would be polite, even if this was James Hook, and even if it was a dream.

"The Honourable James Johnson, to be exact." A woman in a prim maid's outfit strode forward, hands folded primly before her. "But of course, one would not normally address him that way in speech."

"Your father is a Lord?" Wendy asked. She was not familiar with the occupants of the House of Lords.

"And his father before him." There was a slight quirk of his lips, as if he found the thought hilarious. "This is my old nurse, Esmerelda. She agreed to come with me as a chaperone, to make sure I did not make a fool of myself with the young woman I was supposed to meet."

His speech was not quite James Hook's, and Wendy wished she knew if he was the man or not. Likely not: James Hook was dead, and if this was a dream, she was safe.

After all, she had grown up, and as grownups know, magic does not exist. It is something to fascinate the children, but when one grows up, one stops believing.

"Pleased to meet both of you," she said. "My name is Wendy Darling. But I'm afraid I don't remember how I got here."

"Poor girl!" Mr. Johnson was leaning forward, despite Esmerelda shaking her head, as if to warn him. "Apparently the shipwreck has dazed you. Fortunately, there will be people looking for me, and I have no doubt for you. Esmerelda, can you do anything to tend to her?"

"If my lord will withdraw, I will check for wounds," Esmerelda said, bowing. "Or we may go into the woods."

"But not too far," Mr. Johnson said. "Very well, I will watch on the shore for rescuers." Wendy noticed he had burn scars at his wrists, as if pulled by ropes. What a strange dream it was! But at least James Johnson did not sport a hook.

But she let Esmerelda tug her into the woods. The nursemaid did a thorough examination, but found no wounds. "Don't know why you don't remember, but it doesn't matter. Mr. Johnson and I will keep you safe, don't worry."

"Thank you," she said. There was so much she wanted to ask, even if it was a dream. How they got shipwrecked from a boat she didn't remember boarding, where they were going, and even why Mr. Johnson had his scars.

"Mr. Johnson has always been the adventurous sort." Esmerelda said. "He learned how to survive in situations like this. At the cost of his social manners alas."

"Has he been shipwrecked before?" Wendy ventured to ask. His manners didn't seem too awful, but she didn't know him as well as Esmerelda did.

"Yes," Esmerelda said, with a small shake of her head. "There is nobody finer to be shipwrecked with. But I must ask, are you married?"

"No." It was Wendy's turn to shake her head. "I am engaged to a most wonderful man."

"Then I will protect your virtue!" It was a bold declaration, more than Wendy expected out of a short, plump nursemaid. "After all, you should not suffer a loss of reputation for taking a trip on a boat."

"Where are we?" Wendy finally managed to ask.

"We were sailing towards Egypt. Poor dear, I wish you could remember, but I suspect it was because it was such an uneventful voyage."

"Egypt?" Her family could never afford to send her there. This must, she resolved, be a dream.

"Yes, dear." Esmerelda seemed more relaxed when away from Mr. Johnson. "Don't worry. We will be found soon."

The confidence in Esmerelda's voice struck Wendy as odd, but she reminded herself, once again, that this was a dream and it didn't matter. Esmerelda was a human Nana, in some ways, and James Johnson was obviously Captain Hook. The sea voyage made sense, for it was tied into the pirate.

It was still an odd dream.

The two of them returned to shore together. Mr. Johnson was standing there with a spyglass that she had not seen earlier. Esmerelda strode forward. "She's all right, my lord."

"I'm happy to hear that," Mr. Johnson said warmly. "Unfortunately, I have yet to spot our rescuers. Fortunately, I learned how to make lean-tos - at least we will have roofs over our heads in short time."

"What do you need us to do, Mr. Johnson?" Wendy asked, for she hated being useless.

He folded his spyglass, putting it in a pocket she hadn't realized was there. "Why, my dear lady, you and Esmerelda should scout for sticks in the woods. I think that we should also look for berries - if you could gather some, perchance I should figure out if they are safe for us to eat."

"How do you make a lean-to?" Wendy wanted to know. It was something she'd vaguely heard of, but never learned.

"I'll show you later, dear lady," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. She blushed, and Esmerelda folded her arms.

"Wendy dear," Esmerelda said, "Why don't you keep an eye out for our rescuers, while I have a word with Mr. Johnson here?"

Wendy nodded. She meant not to look as the two of them stood barely in sight. She was sure she was going to watch for ships. But she couldn't help watching them.

Esmerelda was scolding Mr. Johnson, she was sure of it, and as she scolded him, both of their forms shimmered. Esmerelda suddenly was a thin, long-haired woman in a white dress, and Mr. Johnson had become dangerously gaunt. Something was going on, and Wendy was curious.

And then she looked towards the ocean, and then back again, and they were both very normal. Handsome Mr. Johnson and prim Esmerelda, though Esmerelda seemed fairly friendly despite the uniform.

"I'm afraid there has been nothing," she said apologetically.

"It's of no matter," Mr. Johnson said. "Esmerelda has reminded me that I should actually explain things, so I will. We are making small emergency shelters; they are a triangular shape, with a large branch shoved into the ground and laid on top of a Y-shaped branch for stability. If you add smaller branches, there should be enough shelter. Finish with some sort of cover - leaves and such - and we will be warm."

"I am stronger than I look," Esmerelda said, "And I'll help you with the materials, dear, while he watches the waters with his spyglass."

It seemed simple enough from the description, and indeed, Wendy found stick-gathering fairly simple, especially with Esmerelda's help. From Mr. Johnson's description, she was able to assemble the frame of the first shelter, much to Esmerelda's approval.

"This will do, for a start. Now, if I guess right, we should drive the sticks into the ground so that they don't fall over." Esmerelda was giving the frame and the sticks a thoughtful eye. 

Wendy nodded, for she was always practical and Esmerelda's words made sense. "Have you any experience with this, Esmerelda?"

"I've seen how things are built, yes." Esmerelda picked up one of the sticks, thrusting it into the ground at an angle. "I listen when the tutors are working. And I know that if you're to keep things from falling over, you must brace them somehow, like those structures you see on the side of cathedrals."

Wendy confessed that she did not know that. But for what reason should she? However, this was an odd enough place that none of it seemed strange.

"Let's finish this shelter, Wendy dear. If the sticks are placed close enough together, then they should keep each other straight."

And so Wendy followed Esmerelda's instructions as Esmerelda left to find food for the three of them. 

The shelters were close enough to the beach and the ocean that she couldn't help but watch James every so often. Not that he was doing much of note, only using his spyglass to watch for ships. 

He put his spyglass down, walking towards her. By this time, she had mostly finished with the first shelter. "Ah, Miss Darling. I see that you are doing well."

"Esmerelda figured out how to put the shelters together. Do you see any ships?"

"Alas, no." He put his spyglass away. "I am afraid we will be spending the night here, and so we will have to finish these shelters."

Wendy was reminded of how the Lost Boys built the shelter for her, and shivered.

"Miss Darling? Are you cold?" Mr. Johnson asked. "I can lend you my jacket, if you wish."

"No," she said hesitantly, for she thought the whole thing sounded fantastical, and wasn't this a dream anyway? "Thank you, but it was only a passing breeze. Perhaps you can help me complete these shelters."

She doubted Mr. Johnson would do anything to ruin her reputation, for he seemed kind, in many ways opposite to James Hook's demeanor. Of course, this was only from a brief acquaintance, but she felt safe with him.

Soon, Esmerelda returned, her apron full of berries and nuts, and she bade Mr. Johnson to look at them while she and Wendy finished the shelters. "Did he do anything to you?" Esmerelda asked, and Wendy shook her head.

"He behaved like a perfect gentleman."

Was it her imagination, or did Esmerelda's shoulders sag in relief?

"Then we should finish these shelters," Esmerelda told her, turning away as if to hide an indecipherable emotion.

Indeed, as James predicted, no ship came to rescue them. Wendy was not surprised, for that, she thought, was the way of dreams. So, the three of them settled into the completed shelters that were as sturdy as they could be made.

Her attempt to fall asleep, however, was interrupted by Mr. Johnson's cry. "Fairies!"

"James," Esmerelda said, "There are no such thing as fairies. Please be quiet before you awaken our young friend."

"I know what I saw. There are fairies and I intend to follow them." He spoke just loud enough that Wendy could hear, though she doubted he intended her to. "Just because you have forgotten them, does not mean that I have."

Esmerelda sighed. "Go where you want, James. I'll watch over the young miss."

It was the last conversation that she heard before she fell asleep. Yes, fell asleep in a dream; even she was unsure how she did so. But Esmerelda was cooking breakfast as she crawled out of her shelter, feeling fairly undignified as she did so. It was strange, as the homes of the Lost Boys, and even the house they'd built for her, did not feel as tight as this place.

"Ah, Wendy dear. I'll have breakfast for us shortly. James departed last night to look for something, but he left his spyglass so that we can keep watch." Esmerelda indicated the spyglass, sitting on a pile of pale pink blossoms.

"I couldn't help but overhear last night. He believes in fairies?" Wendy asked, for it was a question that had to be asked. 

"He does, and it's going to lead that boy to a dark place someday. Already he talks in words of ages past when he thinks I can't hear, though I hear extremely well." Esmerelda shook her head. 

"You're not human." Why she was saying that to dream-Nana, Esmerelda, she wasn't sure, because the woman would know anyway. "You aren't, are you?"

Esmerelda's shoulders slumped, like Nana's when she had been overruled by something Father had said. "And you're not from this time. I hoped that you'd disappear, but I guess that something got you and keeps you here for a reason."

"But I must go home. I have to help Mother." There was enough to do that Mother needed her help, after all. Until she got married, she was still in her father's house.

"There are spirits capable of strange things." Esmerelda cocked her head as a dog would. "I've been watching over this family, man and woman and girl and boy, for centuries. And now James will be the last if we can't stop him somehow."

"Maybe... he's not meant to be stopped." It would be the end of Esmerelda's responsibilities, just as all the kids were grown up now, and Nana was no longer needed as a nursemaid. Her sadness about Nana's situation, some part of her noted, manifested in the form of a forlorn servant.

"I was afraid of this." Staring down at the fire, Esmerelda tossed a stick into the flames. "You know something about James, don't you? Is he going to get hurt more? I don't want to lose him, but I can tell I am."

"Yes," Wendy breathed, struck by the sorrow in the servant's eyes. "But I can't tell you, Esmerelda. I'm sorry. I can tell you I'll meet him later, after he's been spirited away."

It seemed the kindest thing to say to the imaginary woman. Esmerelda met her words with a nod. "I guess I will watch over other peoples' children now, as I was born to do. You feel like you'll be one."

"I hope so." The words were out of her mouth before she could retract them. The other woman acknowledge her words with a small, almost invisible smile.

"Then I must go. I don't want to leave James to his fate, but...." Esmerelda made a hole in the ground with her shoe. "How do you see me?"

"As a plump maid. And then a woman in a white dress. And then Nana. My nursemaid. Um, and dog." She wasn't sure if Esmerelda wanted to know that last part, but as Wendy reminded herself, Esmerelda wasn't real.

"Ah." But Esmerelda didn't get to say anything more as Mr. Johnson crashed through the underbrush.

"Esmerelda! Miss Darling. I've found another survivor!"

Following Mr. Johnson was a man that was polishing his glasses. He gave the two of them a bland smile, but it wasn't enough to settle Wendy's stomach. There was something in his eyes that Wendy didn't like, an invitation to places that nobody should ever go, a gate to darkness and corruption of a young man that might become Captain Hook someday.

"It's time to leave, isn't it?" Esmerelda asked in soft, quiet tones. "I can tell by your expression that he is lost to me."

"Yes," Wendy breathed. "It's time to leave."

"This gentleman assures me that there are other survivors if we follow the beach," James said. "We can always build other shelters."

The man nodded, his bland expression never changing, but Wendy knew all too well what it meant. As the two men headed out, she took Esmerelda's hand. 

Esmerelda nodded, and the world turned dark.

And then it turned light again, with the dawn peering in from the window. Wendy stretched, thinking about the very lucid dream, but putting it aside with a mental list of chores to be done. She never had time to really think about her dreams.

Nana trotted slowly up to her as she finished dressing, the pain in the elderly dog's joints apparent as she moved. Wendy smiled, thinking of Esmerelda and Mr. Johnson, and reached out to scratch Nana on the head.

There was something in Nana's mouth, and she seemed to smile as she offered it to Wendy. It was a garland of flowers, pale pink flowers, and Nana gazed up at Wendy as if saying hello once more.


End file.
